


A Date With the Past

by esperink



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: A Date With Markiplier, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'll tag it anyway, Kinda?, POV Second Person, Panic Attacks, Post-Who Killed Markiplier?, Sequel, The dialogue is mostly from adwm, but idk, but idk if it would count, i almost make it seem like the da has ptsd, i just chose the routes, the da has kind of a panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 19:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15647529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esperink/pseuds/esperink
Summary: Sort of a sequel to The Misfortune at the Markiplier Manor. The District Attorney had found a way out of the mirror and had started a normal life, until their friend set up a blind date.





	A Date With the Past

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh this could be seen as a sequel but it could also be read on its own. it's after the DA gets trapped in the mirror.

A century was a long time to be stuck in a mirror. Was it a century? It’d been so long that you can barely tell.

The amalgamation that was Celine and Damien had stalked away from the mirror, and there was a very dark look on the face that was once yours. You had pounded on the mirror desperately, but you couldn’t get out. You had no clue how this happened. You had no clue how they could just leave you there. Or why they did this.

Vengeance does terrible things to people, you supposed.

People came and went. The colonel had wandered the manor, searching for his friends, not knowing that they were right there. Eventually, something had gotten him out of the manor, and you were left alone for the time being.

The manor was abandoned, and that was a point of interest for some people. Some were considering renovating the whole place and selling it. You weren’t sure how you felt about that, but it’s not like you had a say. You hid away in the mirror world when people got near. Nobody ever thought to get rid of the mirror you were stuck in. Someone had mentioned fixing it, though.

A while later, there was a fire. You didn’t know for sure who started it, but you had an idea that it might be the fusion of Celine and Damien. Or maybe it was Mark? He had, after all, stolen Damien’s body just like they’d stolen yours.

The fire terrified you. You thought it was going to consume the mirror you lived in. Something kept the fire from doing anything, though, and you were safe. The manor miraculously repaired itself.

You wondered what they had hoped to achieve in starting the fire. Was it to get rid of you? Or just the house? The bad memories?

It didn’t really matter to you that much. You were still alive.

You tried piecing together what had happened the night you were imprisoned. Damien had said that Mark had stolen his body. So where was Mark’s? Where was Celine’s body? Maybe the Manor had done something to them.

Damien and Celine had tricked you into taking them with you. They wanted revenge. The dark forces surrounding the place twisted their betrayal and anger. It had turned Celine and Damien into something they were not. It was almost like the dark forces had become a part of them, ingrained into their being.

Because Damien wasn’t like that. You were sure. Damien had been a good friend. He’d even been excited to start working with you. But the manor must have infected him in some way.

Nearly a decade was spent trying to get out of the mirror. Sometimes, though, you weren’t sure whether you should be doing that. Would you even have a body? How would you do anything? Where would you go? You’d be lost. Time changed things.

Nearly a decade after Celine and Damien imprisoned you, teenagers had started using the manor as a dare. The place was haunted, you heard them say. If only they knew the truth.

Only one person stopped to look at the mirror.

They were young. Only a few years younger than you had been when this whole fiasco had started. Not quite an adult but not quite a teenager.

They stared at the mirror, and jumped back a little when you appeared in it. But then this person stepped forward again. They tilted their head and put their hands on the mirror, matching yours. It was a curiosity that you missed.

But it was also a curiosity you needed to take advantage of.

You felt bad. But you needed to get out of that mirror. So you did the same thing that Mark had done. The same thing that Damien had Celine had done to you.

You stole their body.

Being on the other side of the mirror was strange. The person stuck in the mirror was no longer you. And they pounded on the glass, much like you did for so long.

A surge of remorse shot through you. ‘I’m sorry,’ you mouthed.

And you left.

Fast forward a few years, and you were working as a secretary for some big-shot company. You were one of two secretaries. You weren’t required to make any phone calls or speak to people. The work was split evenly. You took the quiet activities, the typing, the organizing, and the other took the more chatty activities. You liked it. It was peaceful at times. The other secretary had been friendly enough to let you relax.

“Hey!” she said one evening before leaving. “I um, I got you a date.”

Her name was Zoey. She had long strawberry blond/reddish hair, with freckles across her nose and bright eyes that always seemed happy.

You stopped typing and turned to look at her inquisitively.

“Sorry, I know it probably wasn’t right of me to mess with your social life,” Zoey continued, looking like she felt only a little bad. “But you seemed so lonely! I wanted to help you. You don’t have to go, if you don’t want to.” She looked at you hopefully. You sighed and nodded. Zoey grinned. “He’s an actor,” she told you. “A celebrity of some sorts. He’s also done things on the internet. I think he was one of those let’s players before he got big. He’s an actor, and he’s really sweet sometimes. His name’s Mark.”

That name was familiar. It put you on edge.

“You’re going to love him,” Zoey gushed. “You’re supposed to meet him at the new restaurant on Fifth Street. Tomorrow, Valentine’s Day, at 3 PM for lunch.” Then she hugged you tightly, nearly cutting off your air supply before backing off. “I’m so glad you’re not mad at me. And hey, maybe you’ll get a boyfriend!” She smiled again and waved, walking towards the exit.

You sighed and returned to your work.

You stood at the entrance of the restaurant at 3 PM sharp. Hesitantly, you pushed open the door and stepped in.

“Bonjour!” one of the waiters said, greeting you. He looked familiar too. Discomfort niggled at the back of your mind.

You’d never been one to stay in the past.

“Ah, bonjour, your table awaits,” another waiter said, gesturing to the table. You made your way over and sat down. Your date was already there.

“Oh, hi!” he said, smiling. Your discomfort grew. He was too familiar. You’d managed to forget your past, suppress it, since it was too painful, and this man reminded you of it. Mark. His name was Mark. It set off alarm bells in your head. “I’ve got something for you,” he continued, pulling something out of his suit jacket. “A rose.”

The waiters poured water into glasses, and the date seemed to have started.

“You look so familiar,” the man said. Mark said. “Have we met?”

You must have met him in some point in your life. But you couldn’t remember. You didn’t want to remember.

“Must be destiny.” The waiters set down dishes, and then exchanged those dishes for a more filling meal. “I can’t wait to get to know you. “It feels like I might’ve known you for a long time.” There was a look of nostalgia on his face. “Either way, I can’t wait to see what this date has in store.

You ate. He ate. When the dishes were finished, the chef stalked out of the kitchen and threw the bill on the table. He looked familiar too. He was aggressive. Familiarly aggressive… “So who’s gonna pay for this?” the chef demanded.

“Oh, I can take care of…,” Mark started, searching for his wallet. He stammered. He couldn’t seem to find his wallet.

It was a little ridiculous, you thought, but you whipped out your credit card anyway and handed it to the chef. The aggressive expression was replaced with a smile, and he and Mark chuckled, although Mark did it more out of nervousness.

“Thank you,” Mark said to you, and then he thanked the chef. He stood. “Okay, I’ve got more of this date to show you.”

You stood and followed him, skeptical.

“We’ve got this awesome play to see,” he continued. “It’s going to be incredible.” He led you outside and opened the car door for you. You got in and he drove to the theater. “Oh man, I’ve heard such great things about this play. I cannot wait. You’re going to love it.”

How would he know?

“It’s absolutely—” He was interrupted by an assistant opening the car door. The assistant looked a lot like the waiter at the restaurant, but you tried to brush that off. They greeted each other as you and Mark exited the car. He continued his monologue. “It’s so unbelievably good. I cannot wait for this, and I just wanted to say, thanks so much for coming out with me.”

You smiled at him, a warm feeling blossoming. For a moment you forgot how distressed he made you feel. Why should you be distressed, anyway? He seemed like a nice man.

“I mean, you’re beautiful, you’re handsome.”

You allowed yourself to blush.

“Ah, bonjour!” an attendant said, and Mark greeted him the same way.

You simply nodded at the attendant as you followed Mark into the lobby of the theater.

“Oh, snacks!” he said, spotting a vending machine. “I know we just ate, but I mean if you wanted a snack for the… play…” He trailed off awkwardly, remembering that he had lost his wallet. He coughed to hide his embarrassment. “Anyway – ooh, popcorn!” He grabbed one of the free popcorns sitting at a table. “You want some popcorn?” he asked you.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his antics as you followed him to the doors that would take you to the play.

“Oh, this is perfect.” He stopped and turned to face you. “We’ve got two plays to choose from.” He spit out a popcorn seed. “Do we see the romance, ‘Love Too Soon’, or the horror, ‘The Dark Mark’?” He gestured to the two posters. “The romance? Or the horror?”

You, at the end, decided on romance. It was a date, after all. What could go wrong?

“Good idea,” Mark praised you. “You know, I always thought you to be a patron of the arts, like myself, and I always respected that about you.”

Always? Suspicion joined the alarm bells in the background of your mind. This was a blind date. He wasn’t supposed to know anything about you. You remembered how you’d seemed familiar to him, and him to you. Maybe that was it.

“I’m so glad you asked me out of this date. Or, was it me that asked you? Ah, you never know.” He waved a hand, almost dismissively.

He had a point. It was set up by Zoey.

“But this play,” Mark continued, “is _astonishing_. It is undeniably _the_ greatest play that has ever existed, in the history of theater.”

You doubted that. Still you took your seat.

“You’re gonna love it.” He smiled. “You want some popcorn?” You reached for it but it was jerked away in excitement. “Oh, it’s starting!”

The play was juvenile, at best. About two people on their first date, and one had paid. The other asked for marriage, and the blonde said, “Of course! Who wouldn’t want to get married on the first date?”

You frowned and furrowed your brow. This wasn’t what Mark was planning, was it? You felt worried.

Mark started crying. You looked at him with concern. “Oh my god, it’s so… unique,” he said. “Every time you watch it, it’s something different. It’s something new, magical, unexplainably good!” He started to talk about it, how the core message of it made him so emotional.

You shook your head slightly and followed him out of the theater room.

Mark stopped. “Oh,” he said, noticing the ‘The Dark Mark’ poster. “The other play. Do you wanna see it? It plays right after this one.”

Since you didn’t want to get proposed to like in the first play, you agreed, hoping it would set him off course. You nodded and you both re-entered the theater room.

“Good idea,” Mark was saying. “I’ve actually never seen this play before. I don’t even know who made it, so… could be a fun adventure.” He smiled at you again. “Let’s give it a try.” He opened the door.

“Good luck,” spoke another voice suddenly.

Both you and Mark startled and turned to look at the source. It was the taller attendant. Why did he say that? And why so ominously? You felt unsettled.

“Uh, okay,” Mark said. “Alright.” He looked at the attendant strangely as he continued walking. “Anyway, I uh, don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I’m a ‘patron of the arts’, and I certainly love new theaters, new plays, new ‘artists’, you know…”

You had to struggle to keep yourself from rolling your eyes at him.

“It all just… stokes the embers in my soul.” He laughed somewhat, so you couldn’t be too annoyed. “Anyway, I hope this is a good one.”

You hoped so too. But you still felt a gnawing worry about what the attendant had said. ‘Good luck’.

“Any chance to spend more time with you is good in my book.” Well, he certainly knew how to flatter a person. “Go on, take a seat,” Mark said, and you sat down next to him. He offered you popcorn again, but again got distracted by the play.

You shook your head slightly and turned to face the stage.

It was empty. Everything suddenly felt cold. Everything was suddenly gray.

You turned to look at Mark, but he was gone. The alarm bells were back. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed so easily to Zoey setting up this blind date. Maybe you should have just stayed home, in your pajamas, watching Netflix and eating ice cream out of the carton.

There was a rumble and you looked back at the stage. An image flickered in your view but it was too quick to make out. It continued to flicker, and the stage was zooming out, to a pattern. You covered your ears, hoping to escape from the noises. Your breathing quickened.

Suddenly it stopped, and everything was gone. It was dark. You were suddenly standing, and someone appeared in front of you, leering at you. “Did you miss me?” they said. “I missed you… very much.”

You stumbled back, but you couldn’t move much further. Your breathing had almost leveled out when the noises stopped, but it quickened again. It was cold. You were surrounded by a familiar void.

The upside-down. Everything came back to you at once, and you nearly stumbled again, blinking frantically.

The Manor. The murder. Mark. The detective. The colonel. The pain of being shot in the stomach and falling to your death from a second-story floor. The void. Celine and Damien. The betrayal. They’d trapped you. They’d trapped you in that mirror and left. They’d trapped you with no way out. You were stuck in that mirror for years.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to see you again,” the person said, leaning back. You recognized that face. Celine and Damien. The ones who had taken your body. He – They? He? He continued speaking. You remembered the dark look on their face all those years ago, so you settled for calling this amalgamation ‘Dark’. “I’ve been pushed aside,” Dark continued. “Replaced… Mocked.”

Who would mock Dark? Dark seemed terrifying enough to be left alone.

“And then, he had the _gall_ to not invite me on this little adventure with _you_.” Dark shook his (their?) head. “No more,” Dark said. “Never again.”

You shuddered.

“It’s my turn now!” Dark growled. “I’ve been waiting patiently! He promised he would let me in again!”

‘let me in’. The same words that Damien had said to you before he and Celine took advantage of you. Would it have been wise for Mark to let Dark in?

“I’m tired of giving people a choice,” Dark continued.

‘Life is ours to chose’. The quote echoed in your head, and you wondered how revenge could have changed Damien so much.

Then Dark sighed. “But I suppose I could give you one last option.” Gestures. “Take your pick. Anything of four, different, choices. More than _he_ could have given you.” Bitterness. “And let’s see how far down this rabbit hole _really_ goes.” Arms folded back, behind Dark, as the mix of red and blue leaned forward. “So take your pick.”

The adrenaline was making you feel sick and dizzy, but you tried to focus. Dark looked angry. Really angry. What had Mark promised, exactly? To let Dark in? Why did that make Dark so mad? What did that even mean?

Dark was waiting for you to choose, so you refocused on the task at hand. Four choices, but they didn’t really seem like choices, just like Celine hadn’t really given you a choice in the upside-down. And here you were again. You picked ‘freedom’. Of course, you had picked ‘freedom’. Just like you had picked to bring Celine and Damien back with you from the upside-down. The obvious choice.

“Good choice,” Dark said, and the echo-y voice was starting to hurt your ears. “But why do we need to choose in life?” Suddenly you were sitting again, at a table, not dissimilar to the one at the beginning of the date, across from Dark. “If dinner is what you want, then I can provide,” Dark continued. It sounded like a jab at Mark. “And I can take you wherever you’d like to go…”

You wanted to leave.

“I can especially take you to the places where you DON’T want to go.”

A shiver ran down your spine. Dark would know that information, of course. Damien knew, so Dark did.

“It’s exciting,” the amalgamation continued, “knowing that there are endless possibilities… waiting for you.”

You swallowed nervously.

Suddenly something in Dark seemed to crack. “I can give you anything!” Dark shouted. Then calm. “I’ve been waiting a long time,” Dark repeated, “to get some _personal_ time between us.”

But why? Why would this mess of Celine and Damien want that? Why would you want that? They’d left you at the manor. They abandoned you. You didn’t want any personal time with them.

“There’s nothing you, or he, can do to stop me!” The aggression and shouting returned.

You flinched back.

Then calm again. Dark almost seemed pleased. There was a little smile on the stolen face. “So… now that we are here together,” Dark continued. “We should _really_ get to know each other.” Dark’s form flickered, showing something, someone, trying to break free. “You just need to let me in…”

Just like Damien had said. Maybe he was still in there.

“It’s as simple as that.”

The darkness flickered around you, and suddenly you were standing outside.

“You’re never, EVER, going to escape me… Not now—” Somebody tackled Dark. “What the hell? Where did you come from?” Dark demanded.

It was Mark. You’ve never felt so happy to see someone start a fight.

“Let’s see how you can fight with a bag over your head!” Mark said, putting the bag over Dark’s head.

“Two can play at that game, mister,” Dark said, and he did the same, and they started fighting.

You could only watch helplessly as punches were thrown. One of them pulled a gun out. Mark? The gun was dropped, and it skittered to a stop at your feet. You stared at it, and then grabbed it, before looking back up.

“Shoot him. Shoot him now. Please,” both said at the same time.

You froze and faltered. How were you supposed to know who was who? There was no more gray tone. They looked the same now. Which was the foolish yet nice man you ate dinner with? Who was the one who had ruined your life?

“You don’t have much time. He’s going to kill everybody,” the Mark on the left said. You pointed the gun at the Mark who stood on the right.

“Shoot him. He needs to die,” the Mark on the right also said, and you pointed the gun the other way.

Left, right, left, right. Which one was true?

Their voices started to overlap.

“He is Dark, he is bad—”

“What are you talking about? Why are you even debating this?”

“Shoot him now. He’s Dark, I’m Mark.”

“Don’t listen to him. He’s a liar, he’s a liar.”

“He’s a liar. He’s weird, he’s got weird eyes. Don’t trust him at all!”

“He’s weird. He does bad things to good people.”

“Shoot him, **_now_**.”

You shot, and the one on the left went down. The one on the right looked relieved, running a hand through his hair and walking towards you.

“You made the right call,” Mark said. “Come here, it’s okay.”

You let him envelope you in a hug. You were trembling. There hadn’t been this much action in your life since you died.

He led you away from the scene. “Oh man,” Mark said. “I am so sorry. Are you okay?”

He seemed so genuine. This had to be Mark. You swallowed, and nodded. You would be okay eventually. Right now, though, you were still trying to process everything.

“You had to kill someone…”

You were quite aware.

“I feel so bad.” He continued to walk with you. “But hey, it’s okay,” he said. “We’re here now. We can continue the date with some ice cream.”

Typical Mark, you thought.

“Bonjour,” the ice cream man said.

“Bonjour,” Mark replied, holding up two fingers as he added, “Two please.” He turned to you again. “It’s going to be alright.”

He was being so comforting… It was nice.

Mark took the two bowls of ice cream from the man at the window and set yours down on the table nearby. “Just relax, and we’ll enjoy some nice, dairy-based treats.”

You smiled. The both of you sat down.

“And, erm, get to know each other. Really. _Personally_.”

Something was wrong.

“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to the bowl of ice cream.

You looked down. Chocolate. You never quite liked chocolate ice cream.

Something flickered, and there was a short static sound. Black-and-white again. You started to panic and forced yourself to look up.

“Oops,” Dark said, hands in fists on the table, smirking at you. “Looks like you made the wrong choice.”

You tried to get up but you couldn’t move.

Dark cracked their (his?) neck. Static and flickering, again. “But now we are going to be together.”

You’d made the wrong choice.

“Forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on tumblr: esperinkdraws


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